Gritty, grandiose graffiti: The rise of street art in Britain

There is a running joke among street artists that every article about their craft begins with a line on how much Banksy’s latest work has sold for. So let’s not get into numbers.

But earlier this year, the removal of his Slave Labour stencil from a wall on the side of a Poundland store in north London outraged a local community and garnered international media attention.

The artwork later emerged in Miami but was withdrawn from auction in light of a campaign against its sale. The wall will become a showcase for up-and-coming artists.

While the fate of Slave Labour is shrouded in mystery, the incident speaks to the popularity of street art in Britain.

What was once associated with urban decay is now connected with renewal, and what was once inexorably linked with the city, is now breaking free and heading to new territories.

Richard Howard-Griffin, who prefers to be known as ‘Griff’, is chief executive of Street Art London, which runs guided tours of street art hotspots and acts as a conduit between artists and commissioners.

He told Metro there was ‘media hysteria’ over Slave Labour that is normally associated with Banksy, whose popularity overshadows a ‘big movement’ of street art here.

‘There are so many much more interesting things going on,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to be associated with Banksy. I don’t even want to comment on Banksy.’

While graffiti for political or personal expression can be traced back to ancient Rome, graffiti’s seminal moments came in the 1960s and 1970s in Philadelphia when an artist known as Cornbread – regarded as the father of modern graffiti – spray-painted his name on an elephant at the city’s zoo. In the 1980s, French artist Thierry Noir moved to Germany and painted about 4km (2.5 miles) of the Berlin Wall.

There are now hundreds of acclaimed street artists around the world and they all tend to make a stopover in London, including Belgian artist ROA, who I watched paint a wall recently at a secret location in east London.

Regarded as one of the top five street artists in the world, ROA has been described as a ‘painting machine’.

One artist, who didn’t want to be named, told me: ‘He paints, he moves on, he paints, he flies somewhere else and then he paints some more.’

The location of ROA’s London mural, featuring his signature intertwined skeletal, monochrome animals, was kept a secret to prevent it being visited by hundreds of fans.

Watching ROA bob up and down listening to music on his cherry picker as he painted the wall, it was evident how utterly the art consumed him and how refreshing it was find someone so creative so entirely uninterested in self-promotion.

Street art feature

Thierry Noir takes over in Dulwich, with some help from Christiaan Nagel (Picture: Street Art London)

Thierry Noir takes over in Dulwich, with some help from Christiaan Nagel (Picture: Street Art London)

Street art is gritty but it’s also one of the purest forms of art you can experience. While it may have recently been given mainstream appeal by Banksy – there was even an official street artist for the London 2012 Olympics, for instance – the old questions of legitimacy remain unanswered.

Almost all graffiti artists will have acted outside of the law at some point, said artist Christiaan Nagel.

South African-born Nagel has become known as the ‘mushroom man’ for his brightly-coloured ‘foam mutualism’ mushrooms that he has secreted across London.

He has deposited about 400 mushrooms around the city in the past three to four years, mostly illegally.

‘I’m good at climbing and I like getting good spots,’ he said, describing the the military-like precision that went into one night-time installation in the River Thames.

‘I still get a rush from it. I absolutely love what I do. It’s such a social thing as well. When you love what you do, you feel inspired.’

He agrees that a large part of the appeal of street art, both for artists and enthusiasts, is its lawfulness, where forces of acceptance and money collide.

All street artists need money to live, but those few who are only motivated by profit are regarded as sell-outs.

Most agree with Nagel when he says: ‘The street is my gallery.’

There is a redemptive quality to street art as well. John and his dog George are fixtures on Shoreditch High Street for the last 18 months after he lost his benefits.

John, who is open about his criminal past, says being forced on to the street compelled him to take up drawing some of the most famous examples of street art around east London.

He has exchanged words with artists Gilbert & George as they walk past his spot and has been published alongside Tracey Emin. He hopes to enter rehab with the proceeds raised from his sketches.

While Griff is blasé about Banksy, he accepts that the campaign to get Slave Labour returned showed the public has a strong bond with these modern paintings.

‘Everyone can identify with street art – they like the surprise element,’ he said. ‘If it’s a good piece of art to boot they like it even more and they get annoyed when rich people steal it.’

He said running battles with local authorities and art dealers are less conflictive and more amusing, part of street art’s ephemeral appeal.

Noting Cornbread’s elephant antics, Griff insists the ‘best works survive for the least time… they just live on in lore’.